Yep - I'm 40 today. How does it feel? GREAT!!! I'm finally at a place where I feel more mature (whether I am or not is a different story!). It's really funny though how your perspective on life changes as you get close to 40. For the past year or so, I've realized the frailty of life a little more. I've realized how much sweeter heaven seems to me. I don't take for granted my health.

People who are younger than me ask in a very "gentle" way how it feels to be turning 40. I think it scares some people to death. Those who are older are wisely reminding me that it's all in how you look at it. And they're right. I'm choosing to look at the bright side. At 40 I don't have to change diapers every day. Yippee.

Anyway, I think it's really true that 40 is the new 20! And I'm sticking with that! ☺

A Memorial

Phillip Lee Keeter

9/20/23 - 7/17/08

I'm feeling sad today. Papaw has been gone a year. I wonder what he's spent his last year doing in heaven. I can only imagine...

Right after Papaw died, Randy wrote the most beautiful article about his life. It meant so much to me and to our family. I want to share this piece again as my own memorial to Papaw.

FAMOUS LASTING WORDS

We stood at the door, somewhat uncomfortably. The kids and I. Not sure what was needed but ready to help. She was at his bedside and this time he was responding well. This was the whole reason we came on this 11 hour trip... so she could see him one more time. Papaw had lived a full life, but it seemed so sudden for his health to take such a sharp downward turn.

Tracey had not been prepared and we couldn't let him go without saying our goodbyes. She looked at me and the kids, then back to him. She had tears in her eyes. “Papaw, look who else is here over by the door.”

He looked our way. “Randy!” he exclaimed, much to our surprise. He seemed sharp as could be, a stark contrast to the few days before when he had been unresponsive and even sometimes delusional. “Well, look here!” He pronounced each of the kids' names, struggling with the youngest. He waved me closer and groaned something I couldn't make out. “He wants to talk to you.” she said. I moved to the side of the bed. I tried in a few phrases to express my gratitude for all he's been to all of us but my words failed. He struggled to say what he was praying for in my life. He mumbled some words of compliment. Then he held his arms out. “He wants to hug you,” she told me. I leaned into him. He tried to give one of his signature hugs. It struck me how weak it was. I began to have flashbacks of all his visits with our family.

He had been the kind of grandfather that joy just poured out of. Every time you saw him after a long absence there was a strong embrace. It didn't matter if you felt like it. Not one of those slow polite hugs either. When he hugged you, it was big. It would squeeze the air out of you and the love into you. Most importantly, it was genuine. It came from a real, caring, spirit-filled vivaciousness. Sometimes, it seemed as if he was the embodiment of the abundant life. It was nurturing no matter how old you were (and this from someone who only married into the family). Now, in some ways, he seemed the opposite, but with little glimpses of the patriarch we knew.

Some who knew him long before I ever did will never forget the image of him in his truck shooting through traffic, weaving between lanes or risking a turn as the light hit red. Others might recall how he would only buy the best cuts of meat at the deli, but he was stumped as to how to open a frozen can of orange juice. He could show up at your door with no warning and when he was determined to do something you were hard pressed to stop him. Perhaps, the most telling attribute was his willingness to share the gospel to anyone at any time regardless of the circumstances. He wore his faith on his sleeve as they say. It was out there where everyone could see, where a faith is supposed to be when it's real. To be with him was to be confronted by truth. He would move himself into situations where he could be used by God to minister to those who didn't know Him. All of these characteristics will be cherished but, at least to believers that knew him, the latter most of all.

It looked like we were going to have closure now. He was alert and it was time to take advantage of it. It was a very unsure moment since this was the last of the four days she had visited him and we were preparing to leave town. How long should we stay? We shared words that didn't really do justice to our emotions. There was some silence and times we weren't sure he was aware. Maybe it was a good time to go. Suddenly, he seemed to get his second wind. He had something else to say.

He nodded his head as if to wave the kids closer to the foot of the bed and moved as if to try and sit up a little more. Then he grabbed my hand and said, “Let's pray.” He was holding me with one hand and Tracey with the other. He paused, then in a strong, passionate but sincere voice he spoke, “Father, we come before you again, asking you to...” His words trailed off. We looked at each other and waited. Physically drained, he had fallen asleep.

There was a period of stillness, then he was with us again. He was trying to be in the moment but losing the fight. More pleasantries were exchanged and subtle goodbyes. He didn't seem sure about what had happened. We weren't positive either. We began to leave. The kids began crying starting with the oldest, the younger not really knowing why. It wasn't the kind of ending I would've written, but then again, somehow it was alright.

As we left the nursing home, we tried to comfort the kids and each other. They started asking us questions like “Why can't he get better?” As we shuffled into the car and drove away, I tried to make sense of what we were experiencing. I felt uneasiness but a sense of peace as well. The clutter of my thoughts began to clear into a few realizations. First of all, I thought to myself, you can't wait until someone is in this condition before you tell them how wonderful they are.

We always marvel at how fast life goes by but you also never know how quickly someone can lose their health. Sometimes it's months or weeks after you thought they were completely fine. We need to tell each other what we want to say while we are able to communicate and while they are able to understand.

Secondly, I was aware that, when he had been struggling to speak, I knew exactly what he was trying to do and what he would have been telling us if he had the strength. I could guess what he was trying to say. I can tell you what he wanted to get across in that moment. If he could have, he would've been talking about God's blessings. He would have mentioned his desires for each of our lives and what he expected from us. He would have prayed for God's leading in our lives and that our needs would be met. He would have described how much his family meant to him. His priorities would have been what they always were, that we would be growing in Christ. His thoughts would have been spiritual. I really knew this. Given the few words he actually spoke when we were there, it's really telling that I inferred that much.

It occurs to me now that it was not really important that he didn't have an emotional final message for us before he died. His life had actually been a coherent message spoken over and over. That sermon will be proclaimed and acted out loud and clear in our memories over the years. In retrospect, it's really OK that he didn't have strong last words. He had lasting words. He will always have lasting words in our hearts. That's what we'll remember. I'm changed for the better having known him and the ministry he had in my life and the life of my family will live through generations.

One day, when my life is down to a uncertain number of days and my energy is spent, I don't particularly want my descendants gathered around my deathbed waiting with baited breath so that I can dispense final words of wisdom that I consider a priority for them to remember. It matters less what happens in that moment.

Now that I think about it, I know what I want.

Before I pass away, and I try to speak but my tongue isn't moist, and I gasp for oxygen but my lungs are deflated and my brain is aching from trying to put a sentence together, I want my family and friends to smile at each other knowingly with a tear in their eye because they know exactly what I mean. They know how to finish my prayer. They know the words I'm reaching for. And I want them to be words of hope and love and grace. Words of life. I want them to remember the words and actions they've seen. I want the legacy that Papaw has.

I want famous lasting words.

I can't express how touching this article was for me - and so healing! Even now as I read it tears are flowing as I remember the man who was the embodiment of unconditional love. My sisters and brother were his only grandchildren. He called us his "babies." Even the week before he died, he told his sister, Phyllis, that he wanted to see his "babies." That's all it took. We dropped everything and went to see him. Trisha and Betsy got there first. The next day I arrived. It was late. I was so emotional about going to see him. Betsy went with me. I walked in the room and was overcome with how different he looked. He was thinner. He was weak. But he saw me and smiled.

The next day Betsy and I were with him again. He was in and out of sleep a lot. Sometimes when he spoke he didn't make sense. But sometimes he did. At one of those times I wanted him to know how special he was to me. And I told him God had been good to him. He said, "Sing it to me." At first I was shocked - you mean REALLY sing it?? He waited for me expectantly. With as much confidence as I could muster I sang, "God is so good, God is so good, God is so good, He's so good to me." Betsy cried quietly. But at that moment I knew he was content. He always loved to hear us sing. And to be able to do this one last thing for him meant the world to me.

I'll never forget those precious moments with him. He died 2 weeks later. I think I can imagine what he heard when he got to heaven...."Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Pool Fun

We feel like we're on vacation. Wanna know why? Our neighborhood POOL!!! It almost feels guilty. Pretty much every day we go down after lunch and stay until 5 or so. We've figured out how to wear swim shirts or slather on the sunscreen so we won't get sunburned. So far it's worked.

When we first moved in to the neighborhood, the pool looked pitiful. It's about 45 years old and it was showing it's age! We chipped in to help paint the fence, pressure wash the concrete, pull weeds and basically do major cleaning, and it turned out quite nice!

The best part is that most of the time we're the only ones in the pool. I guess most people in this neighborhood just aren't interested in swimming! I'm not going to complain. A friend said she joined her community pool and there was hardly any room to move once you got in. I feel so blessed for the kids to be able to enjoy their summer this way. Every once in awhile, Randy will comment that he feels like we're at a hotel pool on vacation.

Chase

Sydney

Randy (notice Sydney swimming under the water!)

Chase

Bailey & Chase

Bailey

Chase & Elizabeth Scott

Julia and Beth

One of the best parts is sharing the pool with our friends and family. Come join us if you can!

God Bless the USA!

Sometimes I think about what it would be like to live in another country and I just shudder! Do we even realize the blessings and freedoms we experience every day because we live in the best country in the world? And now that my brother, Phillip, is fighting in Iraq, it makes me even more thankful for the sacrifices our soldiers make to give us this freedom.

Last night a friend had us over to enjoy the fireworks in their neighborhood. They live in historic Chickamauga, GA. Right in front of their house is a large grassy area where there was a patriotic band and then fireworks afterwards. We had the best seat in the house!! It was a lot of fun and I was so thankful I didn't have to fight traffic or walk miles and miles. :) Thank you Fosters!

Our journey

I feel like I'm on the edge of a new way of life. Not sure what's ahead. Not sure I like what I see in my limited field of vision. Life had been comfortable before Randy lost his job. Homeschooling was great. The kids were doing well. I liked our schedule. We had many options for days off and field trips. But now things are completely up in the air.

"You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed."

For awhile now, we have known that there was a very real possibility that the kids would have to be put in public school this Fall. The younger two would be in East Brainerd Elementary. Sydney was zoned for Ooltewah Middle. In my mind, I had come to grips with Bailey and Chase at EBE, but I just could not imagine sending Sydney all the way out to OMS. And why in the world were we not zoned for the new school - East Hamilton Middle??? The map just didn't make sense to me. EHM is closer than the other school. In fact, we would have to pass it on the way. So I requested a transfer for Sydney, having full knowledge that everyone had told me that there was very little chance they would approve it.

Yesterday we decided to take a trip to the Ooltewah Library. After we left we drove by Ooltewah Middle to show Sydney where her new school would be. I tried to be upbeat about it. She seemed ok.

On the way home I felt very close to tears. I expressed my frustrations to Randy. He made the point that we just really need to make it a matter of prayer. He reminded me that God has already gone before us and He knows exactly what we need. He's right, of course. But putting my faith into action was hard at that moment. I wanted to rail against God for even allowing Randy to lose his job. Why did that even have to happen??

We got home and unloaded library books and the few groceries we had picked up. I walked over to see our neighbor, Martha, who was getting her mail. Afterwards I walked over to get our mail and GUESS WHAT WAS IN THE MAIL? We received a letter from the Hamilton County Department of Education saying that our transfer request was approved!!!!

"You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!"

I was in such shock that I couldn't even speak. I took the letter inside and just handed it to Randy. (I think I scared him to death! He thought someone had died or something.)

Today at the pool, I ran into a lady I had met earlier this summer. She is a teacher at the new EHMS. I told her we were approved to go to the new school and she couldn't believe it. She said that she had heard the school was full (as in "packed") and that it was very unusual to have been approved. Well, MY GOD IS A BIG GOD! I am just so thankful for this blessing.

I still am feeling anxious about the kids going to school. What will it be like for them to be gone all day? Will their teachers take good care of them? Will they feel protected and secure? What will I do if they don't do well?

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life."

If you think about it, please pray for us. This is a big journey we are about to undertake.

[Portions of scripture were taken from Psalm 139. New Living Translation]